They will hunt you. Unfortunately, so will cliché.

Steven C. Miller’s Werewolves imagines a dystopia where a supermoon-triggered genetic mutation has turned swathes of the human population into feral beasts. It’s been a year since the initial outbreak wiped out nearly a billion people, but as another supermoon looms, the lycanthropic carnage returns—and so does Frank Grillo, flexing his jawline and gritted-teeth charisma in what amounts to The Purge: Lupine Edition.

Despite a premise with potential for social commentary or even fresh horror spectacle, Werewolves settles for the path of least resistance. What we get is a series of repetitive chase sequences, mid-tier digital werewolf effects, and characters who rarely rise above exposition delivery systems or action-fodder. The plot—two scientists failing to prevent another outbreak, then fleeing to a family home—never truly builds tension or stakes beyond the expected, and the dialogue might as well have been generated by an algorithm trained on testosterone and B-movie one-liners.

Grillo, as always, commits with gravelly intensity, but even he seems to be running on fumes. He does his best to anchor the chaos, but his character is paper-thin, and the emotional beats are forced. It’s the kind of role he’s played better—and with more bite—in other low-budget action-horror hybrids.

Thematically, there’s a whisper of something interesting: a post-apocalyptic world grappling with genetic fate, mob violence, and the loss of humanity. But these ideas are brushed aside in favour of blood-splattered shootouts and tough-guy posturing. The result is a film that never quite decides whether it wants to be a creature feature or a survival thriller—and ends up being neither effectively.

The Prognosis:

Werewolves isn’t without a pulse. There are moments—mostly during nighttime attacks or glimpses of cities overrun—that hint at a more engaging, visceral film. But they’re quickly buried beneath generic set pieces and uninspired direction. The werewolves themselves, while serviceable in design, are too often relegated to background threats, more like cannon fodder than apex predators.

In the end, Werewolves howls loud but rarely lands a bite.

• Saul Muerte